Page 233 of Worth the Trip

We’d sang together too long for one of us to follow the other. Nyla knew where I’d climb before the note left me, and I knew when she would pull back and make room without needing to look at her. Our voices met where they always had, neither carrying the other.

Nyla took the opening.

I joined beneath her.

By the time the melody curved toward me, the crowd had stopped mattering.

I looked at Landon.

Only Landon.

And sang.

“If the road keeps turning, let it turn.

I already know where my heart is going.

Every mile gets sweeter when I know

whose arms are open at the end.

I don’t need the distance disappearing.

I just need a love worth coming home to.”

Something changed in his face.

Malcolm leaned toward him and said something.

Landon never looked away.

Nyla slipped beneath me on the harmony and left the next line entirely mine.

I gave it to him.

The final note faded into applause.

Nyla squeezed my fingers, then Landon started toward the side of the stage.

My pulse jumped.

“Go get your man, Noli.” I looked at my sister. “What? That one was wholesome.” I laughed. She kissed my cheek. “Go.”

I barely made it down the steps before Landon stood in front of me.

Emotion still sat openly in his expression, but he didn’t reach first.

He held out his hand.

“Come walk with me, love.”

I placed mine in his. “As you wish, baby.”

His eyes flashed at the callback.

“Keep playing.”

He led me behind the vendor row where the crowd thinned beneath the trees. We walked until festival music softened behind us, his thumb passing slowly across my hand.